“Stop it!” she yelled, pressing her free hand against her ear. “I won’t listen to this anymore. She is your lover, as she was before I came here. You’ve made your decision and I would ask that you leave me alone—now and always.”
The line of his mouth tightened a fraction more, and he released her.
It was the most difficult thing she’d ever done, but she left him standing there. Her willpower was slipping. It would have been so easy to give into him. Even now, when she should hate him, she wanted him. Every time she closed her eyes she saw his face, remembered his touch, the feel of him inside her. The wicked things they did. The wonderful things that she missed desperately. God help her, but she loved him, despite his infidelities and the fact that he would never be faithful to her, and he would never love her in return.
Racing to her room, she flung herself on the bed, willing herself to sleep, but instead she lay staring at the ceiling, trying desperately not to cry. Finding rest impossible, she ordered a bath and stared out the window as the servants prepared it. When she was left alone, she stripped her clothes off and stepped into the steaming water.
Slipping deeper into the warm water, Arlie sighed. She could not stand another day in this house. To sit across from him at dinner was pure torture. His stare burned into her, daring her to meet it. Every time she looked at him she couldn’t help but think of him with Veronica. Why? Why had he betrayed her? Had he grown tired of her so soon, or was he only trying to help by forcing the gossips to recant their stories? She shook her head, disgusted with herself. Why did she even try to rationalize his behavior? Had she slept with Daniel, he would have sent her packing, uncaring about explanations.
Hearing the door open, she turned, expecting to find Mary bringing her towels. But it wasn’t Mary—it was Dominic. His shirt was open to the waist, exposing his hard chest and heavily-muscled stomach. His breeches and boots were covered in mud. His hair looked tousled, like he’d raked his fingers through it time and again. He looked dangerous…and so very masculine. She licked her dry lips. “What do you want?”
His steps echoed on the floor as he came toward her, his gaze not once leaving hers. When he reached the tub, he went down on his haunches, his fingers drifted lazily through the water, coming dangerously close to her breasts. Despite her attempts to not be affected by his presence, her body was responding to him against her will. Her nipples tightened, remembering the feel of his hands on them. Her stomach clenched, a deep ache that only he could relieve.
“Arlie, I never meant to hurt you. I only wanted to protect you from the gossip. Veronica has a lot of power, and she would destroy you if she could.” He looked so tortured, she almost touched him, but she restrained herself. “It’s true, she once meant something to me, but that was before I met you.”
Trying to ignore his nearby fingers that rested on the bath’s edge, she glanced at him again. His blue eyes were dark and tortured, dark circles appeared like bruises beneath them. She knew he hadn’t slept last night. She’d heard him walking down the hall, his footsteps stopping outside her bedroom door. He knocked lightly. How tempted she’d been to let him in, but she couldn’t. Knowing he’d been with another woman, just hours after she’d given herself to him, was gut-wrenching. To make matters worse, he had given Daniel permission to marry her.
“I did not sleep with her, I swear it. Forgive me, Arlie—please.”
Watching him, she started to believe that maybe he had done it to protect her and that he was truly sorry. She closed her eyes, wondering how she could possibly be contemplating forgiving him such a thing.
“I know what I did wasn’t right, and I know that no matter what I say, it won’t change anything. I regret it deeply, but I swear to you, we did not have sex.”
She turned from him, unable to look at him without thinking of he and Veronica entwined in each other’s arms—just as they’d been the morning after the Banfield ball.
“I told myself I wouldn’t care if you married Daniel, yet I do. The thought of the two of you together makes me crazy.” She glanced at him, unable to help herself. His gaze moved to her lips. “When I think of you laying beneath him making love to him, I want to kill him…and you as well.”
Her breath caught in her throat when his fingers pressed around her neck. Dear Lord, would he strangle her right here? His gaze softened, and his fingers splayed and slowly slid down to her breasts, palming one in his large hand, before running the tips of his fingers over a pebble-hard nipple.
“Be mine, Arlie. I want you to belong to me and no other.”
For so long she had yearned to hear him speak those words. But he’s betrayed you, her mind all but screamed. Meeting his stare, she whispered, “I want you, too.” She needed him, wanted him more than anything and anyone, and apparently he felt the same. Yesterday didn’t matter. Only now—this very moment.
Relief evident on his features, Dominic lifted her from the bath and walked across the room in long strides where he tossed her on her bed. She lounged on the silk comforter, loving the feel of her wet flesh against the smooth material, as she watched him undress. While he stripped off his shirt and pants, he watched her, his eyes dark and promising.
Joining her on the bed, he smiled wickedly then he kissed her lips, her throat, her breasts, then her stomach, and lower still. He kissed the insides of her thighs, then with a low groan he kissed her pleasure pearl. He stroked his tongue over her slick folds, lifting her pearl with the very tip of his tongue until she cried out. Her fingers weaved through his hair, pulling him closer to her, anchoring him there.
Her breath came in long surrendering moans as he continued his explorations. Her bones felt as soft as butter, and when she thought she could take no more, she was hurtled beyond the point of no return, as wave upon wave of pleasure pulsed through her body.
His hard body moved between her legs that quivered from her climax. Looking up into his handsome face, her pulse skittered seeing the desire there—the look of complete possession.
Again, her body began throbbing, needing him inside her to satisfy the craving. She arched her hips against him, prompting him to take her.
“Please…take me,” she whispered against his mouth.
He entered her in one fluid motion. Her legs wrapped around his hips, taking all of him within her, pressing against him until she was sure he touched her womb.
“I love you,” she whispered against his neck, meaning it with all her heart and soul.
He kissed her, hard and passionately, his tongue darting in and out of her mouth, matching the rhythm of his body. “You’re mine, Arlie. My angel, my life.” He groaned low in his throat. “Mine and only mine.”
When they both lay sated, their limbs entwined, Arlie wondered if he meant any of the words he’d uttered. She knew she tortured herself, but then his words came back to her. My angel—my life. Mine and only mine.
Chapter Twelve
Arlie pretended to sleep as Dominic got up and dressed.
He kissed her forehead, walked to the door, then closed it softly behind him.
A hot tear ran down Arlie’s cheek, followed by others.
Why had she been unable to resist him? In giving into him she had failed herself. Was she no better than her mother? Why was she so willing to open her legs for a man who did not love her?
Dominic had proven the obvious…he would never be faithful. And worse still, she had told him that she loved him last night while in the throes of passion. He hadn’t responded, so she’d told him again when they lay quiet in each other’s arms. She remembered how he’d frozen and then been silent, saying nothing, except that she was his.
But being his didn’t mean the same as love.
Her mind raced, wondering what alternatives she had. Knowing they were few, she decided the best thing to do was not let him touch her again, and to take Daniel’s proposal seriously. Daniel was a good man, who could offer her a nice home and a good life. She could do far worse than the young American;
perhaps one day she would desire him like she desired Dominic.
Yes, that’s what she would do. She would give Daniel her answer today.
Arlie rose and took a hot bath, scrubbing away the traces of lovemaking. Never again would she know Dominic’s touch—a fact that taunted her. Even now her body stirred, remembering the feel of lips against hers, the touch of his fingertips on her breasts, the stroke of his tongue against her cleft, bringing her to heights she had never thought possible.
Putting Dominic from her mind, she took great pains on her appearance. She close an emerald-green riding habit that complemented her eyes. Daniel would prefer the habit’s conservative cut over her breeches.
Arlie walked to the stables and breathed a sigh of relief at not seeing Dominic around. She knew her behavior was improper since she had no chaperone, but she didn’t want to give herself any more time to talk herself out of accepting Daniel’s proposal. It was the only solution.
Riding into London, Arlie thankfully saw no one she knew, since stopping would give her time to change her mind. Having passed by Daniel’s townhouse on an earlier occasion, she knew where it was. Now she glanced up at the building, wondering if it was too early to call on him. But if she didn’t do this now, she would probably never return.
Climbing the steps, she took a steadying breath and grabbed the brass knocker, knocking several times against the heavy door. Her stomach clenched in a tight knot and her heart pounded nervously as she waited. She was about to leave when the door abruptly whipped open.
A young maid with cap askew looked at Arlie disapprovingly. “May I help you?”
A combination of relief and disappointment flooded Arlie as she looked at the maid. “Yes. May I speak to Mr. Butler?”
The woman glanced past Arlie’s shoulder, obviously looking for her chaperone. She lifted a brow seeing she had none. “May I tell him who’s calling?”
“Yes. Miss Whitman.”
The woman’s eyes instantly lit up at the mention of her name.
“Come in, come in, Miss Whitman. Please have a seat here in the parlor.”
The servant left her sitting in an old settee, the worn material dull and faded. Arlie’s gaze moved over the room, taking in the sparse furnishings, worn carpet, yellowed drapes, and wallpaper that was ripped and torn in places. She had heard that Daniel came from a well-to-do family—yet the state of his townhouse made her wonder if his wealth hadn’t been exaggerated.
The sounds of boots outside the parlor door brought Arlie to her feet. A moment later Daniel entered, a wide smile on his face. He looked youthful, boyish, and very handsome in a brown suit that accented his dark good looks. “Miss Whitman, what a pleasure it is to see you.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “I must say I’m pleasantly surprised. Can I hope this visit means you bring me good news?”
She managed a smile, even though she felt like crying. “I have come to tell you yes. I accept your proposal.”
He pulled her into his arms, his hand brushing along her spine. She wanted desperately to feel the same excitement with Daniel as she did with Dominic, but as he pulled away, she knew it wasn’t to be. She could only hope that in time she would feel differently.
“I will place an announcement in the paper immediately.”
“Yes,” she said, her mind reeling with all she had to do.
“We will decide on a day, though I think it best to wait perhaps a year.”
Her heart sank. A year! That was not what she wanted to hear. She could not live in Rochford’s house for a year and not want him. Nor could she stand having Dominic parade his mistresses in front of her. No, that would not do!
“I had hoped it could be sooner.”
He grinned. “If only that was possible. My family must be able to attend, and they are away—oh, and I would like to marry in America. That is where we will be living. In Richmond, Virginia.”
She shook her head. The thought of moving an ocean away was distressing to say the least.
“Don’t fear, darling. But we will also have this townhouse, and we can visit London every summer. Don’t mind its current state, soon things will change, and you will be able to decorate in whatever fashion you see fit.”
She had a suspicion Daniel thought her wealthy. Could he possibly be marrying her for the money? If so, he would be disappointed. True, Dominic had secured a dowry for her, but it would not be a fortune. Perhaps she had best tell Daniel the truth.
But as it turned out she didn’t mention her past at all. By the time she left Daniel’s townhouse, her stomach had tied itself in knots. He’d been so excited, she hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise, as he talked endlessly about their life together, planning every detail down to when their first child would be conceived: on their wedding night—a night she already dreaded.
When Rochford Manor came into view, Arlie stopped at the iron gate, her fingers curling around the cool metal. The home had become her sanctuary these last few months, and in a way, her prison.
How could she possibly stay at the manor another twelve months, living with a man she could not resist? She would never be able to live in the same house and stay out of his bed. His touch made her feel so wanton, she scarcely knew herself anymore. It was impossible. She couldn’t stay. But what could she do?
The gate creaked as she opened it. She stepped onto the stone pathway and closed the gate behind her—the sound imposing and somehow final. She had done this. She had let the affair happen, and now she must end it.
Arlie walked into the manor and down the long hall, remembering the first day she had come here, and how easily she had fallen under her guardian’s spell. How eager she had been to please him, wanting nothing more than his approval.
She had got much more than that.
At the door to Dominic’s study, Arlie stopped and took a deep breath, her hand poised to knock when the door swung open.
“You were up early this morning,” Dominic said, meeting her with a kiss.
She closed her eyes, inhaling the masculine scent of him. Her heart began to beat unsteadily as he pulled her into his arms and deepened the kiss.
“I came to your room this morning,” he said, his voice a husky whisper. “But you were gone.” He kicked the study door closed with his foot and to her distress, she felt herself falling under his spell once again.
“Mmmm, you smell so good.” His hands went to her hair, pulling the ribbon out, weaving the thick strands through his fingers. Next, he pulled at the buttons at the back of her gown, but she stilled his hand.
“We need to talk.”
One dark brow lifted. “Can’t it wait?” he asked, flicking his tongue over the sensitive flesh of her ear.
She shook her head and took a step back, jumping when she ran into the door. “No, we must talk now.”
All humor left his face as he watched her warily. “All right, you have my full attention.”
He motioned for her to take a seat and with every step she took toward the couch, she felt a sense of impending doom. How would he take her news? Would he be happy, relieved, or angry?
Sitting stiffly on the couch, she cleared her throat. “As you know, Daniel has asked for my hand.”
He nodded. “Of course, I am aware.”
“I’ve given it much thought…and I believe it is for the best that I accept his offer.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he sat forward in his chair. “What!?”
“I believe it is for the best. You have to admit that we have carried on this thing between us for far too long. We have been found out, and in order to keep people from speculating further, I think it wise that I marry Daniel.”
He stood so quickly, the chair he’d been sitting in crashed to the floor. His eyes flashed with rage as he raked his hands through his hair. Silence fell over them like a heavy mist, but still she said nothing, waiting, watching.
He walked to the window, looked out for a few moments, the nerve in his jaw ticking.
He was furious. When he stopped in front of her, his expression was lethal. “Do you mean to tell me that you will go through with this marriage?” His voice was full of disbelief.
Arlie nodded.
“Do you love him?”
“Of course not, but I see no other choice.”
His jaw hardened. “I would give you a choice.”
Hope momentarily flared in her breast. “What choice?”
“Be my mistress.”
The words were like a hard slap. “Mistress?” she choked.
“Yes. I will give you a good life, Arlie. You will have the best of everything.”
Not a wife, but a mistress. After leaving her father, her mother had given up everything for a man of privilege. Yet only months into their relationship, he found another more to his liking and kicked her out of the apartment, took away the jewels, the gowns, and the carriage, leaving her with nothing. Penniless, she had gone back to work as a prostitute and died within a year. Many believed she drank herself to death trying to nurse her broken heart. Arlie would not repeat the same mistake.
“Arlie?”
She stared at him, wanting desperately to remember him how he was now—tall, dark, sinfully handsome, and so unattainable. She shook her head. “I cannot accept.”
“Why?” he said between clenched teeth.
“You would tire of me soon.”
“I would never tire of you.”
“I want marriage.”
“You know I cannot offer you that.”
She didn’t bother to ask why. She knew why. Because of who she was. It didn’t matter that she had been accepted by the ton. It only mattered that she hadn’t a single drop of blue blood in her veins, and therefore, wasn’t good enough for him. “I know that you have a country estate, my lord. I would ask that I stay there. I think it only right, especially in order to let things die down.”
Dominic stared at Arlie, finding it hard to believe they were even having this discussion. Just last night she had professed her love for him over and over again. He in return had told her how much he cared for her. He had thought that she had forgiven him for having met with Veronica. He had hoped that they could continue their relationship as though the entire incident had never happened. Apparently, it was not to be.
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